Six Months
by HikaInStyle
Summary: Every victim  of murder or accident within the last twenty years will be returned to life temporarily as they appeared before death. They have six months to live.


Disclaimer: I don't own Alex Rider.

Okay, I know this is all kind of idealistic but I didn't want them just to go into hiding for fourteen years because that would kind of ruin the story. I wanted to look at the relationship just before their death and how Helen felt about it all. This is kind of inspired by Silver Queen's 'In Ignorance We Suffer' where Helen didn't know anything about John's job and stuff and in this story she's not going to know. Them going into hiding would kind of ruin that ignorance. Also this is kind of inspired by Amari Bell's 'Where the Heart is' because I love the way she depicts Ian. Thanks and here's the story.

* * *

The newsreader gazed intently into the room, her face blank and tone professional as she read through yesterdays news. The sound leaked into the kitchen where a lone teenage boy sat eating his breakfast.

Alex Rider swallowed another spoonful as the newsreader spoke, consumed in his own thoughts. MI6 hadn't contacted him in over a month and as much as he hated to admit it, he was bored. It had been nice at first, the chance to be normal, but now he had finally caught up with is school work he was getting restless. It wasn't that he liked risking his life all the time, he mused, but that sensation when he did, it was addictive.

He glanced up as the newsreader started on another story.

"...and finally our newsreader Taylor Jackson is outside Davis Industries HQ. Over to you Taylor."

Alex wandered into the living room just in time to see the image flicker to a young woman standing beside a huge logo wearing a form-fitting yellow raincoat and carrying a huge umbrella. There was a momentary pause.

"Yes thank you Celia. The man in charge of Davis Industries, Henry Davis, has announced that his plans to 'resurrect the dead' will be taking place at 10:00 today."

She couldn't disguise the mocking in her voice. Henry Davis had been the laughingstock of the media for the past eight months, ever since he had announced that he was going to bring the dead back to life. "He has told the BBC that after numerous setbacks he is finally ready to put his plan into action. If all things go well, every victim of murder or accident within the last twenty years will be returned to life temporarily as they appeared before death. So folks, keep your fingers crossed that we don't have rampaging zombies on our hands. Back to you in the studio Celia."

"Thank you, and now what's the weather going to be like over the next few days Jim?"

Glancing at his watch, Alex dumped his bowl on the coffee table and switched the TV off. Picking up his bag, he shouted a goodbye to Jack and pedalled his way to school.

XXX

Piercing light struck his eyelids and immediately he was up and alert, assessing the situation. He found himself in a room with hundreds of other people, all drowsily waking up underneath the harsh lights. A huge sign saying '1983' hung from the ceiling.

"John?"

He turned his head so fast his neck clicked. His wife was sitting up from her position on the floor, blinking the sleep from her eyes. He quickly knelt down beside her and helped her up.

"What's going on? The last thing I remember is the plane."

She gripped his arm as someone next to her stood.

"I don't know." He suddenly turned to face her, grabbing her shoulders. "But I promise you, whatever it is we'll be okay. I'll get us both out."

She nodded.

"Excuse me." It was a man wearing a plaid shirt and jeans. He looked around 40. "Do you know what's going on? Only the last thing I remember is heading for a tree and being unable to stop."

John's face remained blank, but Helen pulled away.

"No we have no more idea than you. The last thing I remember is the plane exploding then waking up here."

The other man nodded pensively and opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted.

"What plane?" The speaker was a teenager, 16 at most, wearing a large Chelsea top.

"Um, the 12:52 to France from Heathrow airport, why?"

"Wednesday the 2nd? British Airways?" He pressed.

Helen glanced uncertainly at John, who remained impassive.

"Yeah, how did you..."

"How do you think?" He shouted. "I was on that plane too. And if we're here that must mean we're dead."

John took a warning step towards him.

"No that can't be true," she looked from the man's horrified face to her husband's blank expression and finally to the boy's angry one. "No I mean there's got to be another explanation right?"

"Why don't you get it? We're dead. There is no other explanation."

John grabbed the scruff of his top and yanked him up. "Shut up kid."

The kid sneered right back at him. "You can't hurt me. We're already dead."  
And then without warning, he burst into tears.

* * *

Okay I had to redo this chapter because of some mistakes so I thought I might as well put this little bit at the bottom while I was at it.

Basically, I just wanted to answer a question that someone asked me about this chapter. I'm not saying that there is no afterlife, just that they don't remember anything. So whether there is or there isn't, that's your choice.


End file.
